


Measurable Means

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-30
Updated: 2010-04-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 06:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8700364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: It was one night, one drunken hook up, and now Jared can't get this guy out of his head. But he never expected the guy, Jensen, to show up at his construction site and want more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**MEASURABLE MEANS**

NC17 to be safe, but it's nowhere near as explicit as I'm used to writing.

Jared Padalecki/Jensen Ackles.

8,000 words.

Written for electricalgwen who graciously donated money to help_haiti@livejournal in exchange for this story. Her prompt boiled down to, "Construction-worker!Jared, his buddies are always talking about and whistling at the gorgeous, stacked redhead who walks by the site every day, but he's more interested in the really hot guy... " And that is only part of this story. Title from a quote by Louis Kahn.

The ringing in Jared's ears never stops.

 

Away from the construction site, tucked deep under the covers in his tiny bedroom, the throb is there beating a dull reverb between his ears. The first day of pile driving is always the worst. Jared used earplugs, but those did no good when the steel supports were being pounded into the ground an inch at a time. The pulse competes with his heartbeat, alternating rhythms in Jared's head, and he checks his bedside clock for the eighth-ninth-tenth times. The more he looks, the slower the minutes tick by. Jared needs to sleep or else he'll be useless tomorrow, dragging ass around the site.

 

There are a lot of things Jared hates about his job. Construction isn't exactly a high-profile field, work that certain types of people have no trouble turning their nose up at. There's no escaping the heat when the Texas summer is in full swing, no shelter from the cold and wind on long winter afternoons. His hands are rough and worn, new scratches to patch up every day. But there's something about being able to see real progress every day, watching something massive come about where there was once nothing but drawings on a sheet. No matter what a structure becomes, Jared can watch the steel supports driven into the ground; he pours the sub-basement that lays the foundation for multiple stories. His body appreciates the effort—no need for a gym when you're hauling cables over ground, locking muscles to hold supports in place while they're being welded.

 

His heartbeat finally starts to slow, his mind reverting to the peace and simplicity in the repetition of his job—the way he'll show up tomorrow and know exactly what needs to be done. No longer harassed by the clock, Jared falls asleep.

"Hey, Greg! I'm taking lunch!" Jared has to shout over the mechanical screams of their equipment. With a wave from his foreman, he hurries beyond the line of trailers, a blockade of temporary field offices, where the noise is more bearable.

 

"Jay-man!" Davis already claimed the best seat, sharing the low, stone wall that runs along the sidewalk with a few members of their crew. "Lucked out on the weather, didn't we?"

 

Today's as good as it gets—bright sun, low humidity, and a slight breeze that runs under Jared's collar, easing the heat of labor. The guys yammer on about the weather, speculating on the weekend forecast, while Jared runs across the street to the lunch vendor, a single guy named Nolan who brings his Jeep and trailer every day the weather allows to reap the benefits of hungry construction workers, medical students, and hospital staff. His steak and cheeses trump the catered food sometimes delivered to the site on long days. There's a spot between Davis and Louie when he gets back and his body's grateful for the chance to sit.

 

"Heard we're ahead of schedule on the driving," Louie's saying between bites of the home-packed lunch his wife makes. "Might even finish a week early."

 

"I'll never get used to it!" Jamie, one of the youngest on the site, has to yell over the clanks and whirs of the stone-grinders warming up. "The ringing kept me up all fucking night!"

 

Jared laughs sympathetically, pretty sure no one got a full night's sleep. A low, shrill whistle interrupts and Jared turns to Aidan, sitting at the far edge of their wall.

 

"Check 'em out, three o'clock, boys."

 

Ignoring the way Aidan calls them all boys—as the oldest in their little group of friends, it's his prerogative—their heads turn as one to the right. Coming down the sidewalk are a couple of nursing students, their white fitted tops and white scrubs giving them away. Thanks to the warm, March weather, their jackets are off, tucked under their arms, and their badges bounce with their happy stride, both girls chatting as they pass Jared and the gang.

 

"Fuck, did you see the redhead?" Jamie whispers once the girls are out of range.

 

"No, dipshit," Davis teases. "I missed her when she walked three feet in front of my face!"

 

It's pretty much the reason Davis scoped out this particular stretch of sidewalk. Jared likes how close the lunch-vendor is, but the guys seem to appreciate the views of the students and nurses hustling by all day long. Louie's a married man, rolls his eyes whenever their friends get too vulgar, but Jared knows he likes to look, too. No one tells his wife. And hell, every once and a while, someone catches Jared's eye.

 

"Beat it! If they were gonna notice any of us, it'd be Jay-man," Davis and Jamie are still arguing, smiles on their faces and cheeks red from laughing. "Fuckin' bastard. Too bad he's blind to their qualities."

 

"I'm not blind." Common retort to a common joke. "I just appreciate different qualities!" Like a strong jawline and a hint of muscled shoulders, narrow hips and a lean torso. The guys all know Jared's gay and had quickly tossed out Jared's fears of alienation when Louie cracked that, with Jared's looks, he'd get laid more than any of them, regardless of the gender he pursued. Now it's a comfortable subject for ridicule, as easy to fall into as Louie's marriage or Jamie's constant attempts to snag a nursing student.

 

"There's one for you, Jay!" Aidan points and everyone looks. Jared rolls his eyes at how conspicuous they all are. "What'dya think? He your type?"

 

Across the sidewalk, a college-age guy hurries along. Skinny legs—skinny everything, really—shaggy blond hair down past his ears, and long fingers clutching a ripped and patched messenger bag as the guy takes the steps of a building two-at-a-time and rushes inside.

 

"Yeah, guys. Totally my type," Jared snorts. "Are you kidding me? I'd break him in half."

 

"I thought he was cute!" Davis laughs, elbow needling into Jared's ribs.

 

"I don't do twinks, man. How many times I gotta tell you?"

 

"That was a twink?" Aidan scowls like he's really trying to figure it out, but Jamie shoves him for Jared's sake. "Kidding, man!"

 

Louie checks his watch and balls up the wrappings from his lunch. "You losers coming back to work?"

 

Jared is the last to abandon his lunch—it would be a shame to sacrifice even a single bite of the melty-cheesiness covering the hot, spicy steak. Finally finished, he tosses the wax paper and foil into the trash and stands, his eyes snagging on someone approaching the vendor across the street. When the breeze lifts the grilling steam away from the trailer, Jared nearly gasps. He knows that face.

 

_Stumbling into Jared's apartment through a drunken haze. Feet and knees knocking on tables, lamps, each other. Tripping into the bedroom, little regard for where their clothes end up._

 

Honestly, Jared knows a lot more than just the face though most of his memories are washed away at the edges from too much beer. He remembers that guy's lips, his eyes, but not his name.

 

_Tastes hops from the guy's tongue—Jared had watched him throwing back high-gravity beers all night like they were Coors Lights, while his team got demolished on television. Hot tongue, soft lips, hard hands and arms that muscled Jared back onto his own bed, the guy falling between his thighs._

 

James? Jason? _Fuck_. Jared doesn't need anymore of the X-rated flashbacks while he's working, but staring at the guy, he can't help it. Jared was at a sports bar, maybe two months ago, when he saw this guy. They both got drunk, slipping down that frictionless slope where talking led to touching. Classic one-thing-leads-to-hot-fucking scenario, and the next morning Jared woke up with an empty bed and a hangover that refused to be ignored. Jared could have sworn he told the guy to call him right before he passed out, even scribbling his number in Sharpie marker on the guy's hand. There'd been no word and most of the night ended up as just a warm, hazy memory.

 

Jared's eyes are locked but the guy doesn't notice, ordering something and grabbing a Coke from the cooler in the Jeep. Grabbing his lunch, the guy moves from behind the grill and Jared really wants to hit himself. White coat with tiny embroidered letters over the left chest pocket. Light blue scrubs covering the rest of him. Even from across the street Jared can see that his badge is topped with a red stripe. The students all have yellow stripes. The regular employees and research staff have purple, nurses light blue. Red means doctor. Not any Ph.D., either—red is for the M.D.'s.

 

"Yo, Jay-man!" Davis yells from a few dozen yards away, waving his arms. "What's the hold up?"

 

"Be right there!"

 

A prickling sensation at Jared's temple makes him turn back. The guy hasn't moved away; he's looking right at Jared. Looking and smiling. Jared doesn't even acknowledge the look, turns right around and marches back towards Davis and the pile of pipes that need to be moved before the next truck rumbles through.

_"So you just wandered off like an idiot?"_

 

Jared wants to throw his cell phone into the sink. Trust his sister not to go easy.

 

"No, not an idiot. I wouldn't say that."

 

_"This hot guy is just, like, staring back and you can't do anything but run away."_ Megan's tone makes it clear that she's still filing this under 'idiotic'.

 

"Meg, I don't remember his name."

 

_"Well that sucks."_

 

"Yeah."

 

_"So ask him next time."_

 

"Now who's being an idiot?" Jared scoffs.

 

Megan ignores that. _"How else are you going to find out? Even if you get close enough to read his name off his coat, you're gonna have to say something."_

 

"He probably didn't recognize me anyway, you know?"

 

_"Suit yourself,"_ Megan sighs, giving up. _"I know it's going to drive you crazy, though."_

 

"I probably won't even see him again," Jared tries to sound assured. "It was just a fluke that I happened to look up."

 

_"Whatever. Look, I gotta run if I'm going to make my next class,"_ Megan says in a rush. _"Call me when you find your spine?"_

 

"Shut up. Love you too, Meg."

 

Sitting on his couch, the opposite wall dominated by Jared's forty-two inch plasma television—one of the only things he's ever splurged on—Jared curses his sister and thinks. Not remembering the doctor's name does bother him. There are so many other details, although foggy, he can put his fingers on.

 

_Not wasting any time—the guy is on Jared in a heartbeat, grappling and sliding. Fingers finding ticklish spots, moving on to tender ones, places that make the guy's kisses sloppy and his moans rougher. Sucking skin, fingers, erections—gathering his taste._

 

The way the memories come back, playing in choppy sequences, has Jared's dick taking note. It's late and he's not going out for a hook-up—there's no sense in letting his erection go to waste.

 

_Frantic and clumsy, Jared forgetting that it's his bed and his supplies the guy is waiting for. Slick fingers circling Jared and disappearing, hot-as-fuck sounds coming from the guy's mouth before Jared's kissing him again. Pressing up into that heat, inching higher as the guy sinks lower, closer to Jared's hips._

 

Jared's relationships are few and far between but he wasn't one for sleeping around with random strangers. That night he couldn't resist. Hadn't even tried when the guy's eyes relayed that Jared's casual touches were welcomed. He never guessed the guy would be a doctor—glad he hadn't known because he never would have gotten to bring the guy home. Doctor. Construction worker. They aren't exactly a combination for meant-to-be.

 

_Sounds from mouths and bodies connecting, the air around them hot and sticky making up for the cold, dry conditions outside. Words too filthy for his brain to remember, pouring from their lips. The guy riding him as thoroughly as Jared's ever known, barely getting enough of the man's phenomenal body before they're both coming._

 

Orgasm hitting out of nowhere, Jared comes with his hand around his dick and no name on his lips. Just an open sound of surprise and tingling pleasure, fading too quickly, before he looks around for Kleenex, a shirt—dammit, anything!—to clean up with.

Jared looks both ways before crossing over to Nolan's stand. Plans to make his own lunch were foiled by his malfunctioning alarm clock and Jared barely made it to the site on time. The lure of a hot sandwich, even with the decent weather, is too strong. Nolan smiles and throws a brat and bun on his grill with a few sizzling veggies after Jared orders and pays.

 

It's all clear while Jared sits on the stone wall and eats, tuning out most of what Davis and the guys are chatting about. No sign of Dr. Sexy—thanks to Megan, Jared can't get the nickname out of his head and he is _not_ a fan—all through lunch. Jared's eyes stray over from time to time during the rest of the shift. Maybe it was a fluke after all. With work distracting him, Jared lets the hustle and bustle of the Medical University campus fade in the wake of machinery and drilling.

Monday afternoon, Jared doesn't even think when he goes over to grab lunch. His mind's a little scrambled from the weekend. The barbecue at Aidan's in honor of the nice weather had lasted into the early morning hours on Sunday, the crew sitting around Aidan's outdoor fireplace, swapping stories and off-color jokes until Jamie passed out and the night was deemed a complete success. He'd barely crawled out of bed on Sunday afternoon, sparing only enough energy to order a pizza and make himself comfortable on his couch watching golf and napping.

 

Jared's stomach appreciates the wafting smells of fresh mushrooms and sliced chicken, grilled together with smoky Swiss—and Jared promises himself that he'll have a big salad for dinner. When he feels someone come up behind him, Jared doesn't get the chance to turn before the person says, "Hey."

 

Dr. Sexy—seriously, screw Megan and her stupid shows—is standing right there in immaculate dark green scrubs, clean sneakers on his feet and a pair of sunglasses pushed up over his forehead. Almost involuntarily, Jared's eyes scan up and down, back to meet the doctor's smug gaze.

 

"It's Jared, right?"

 

_Shit_. "Shit. I'm sorry—"

 

"Dude, it's okay." He blushes. "That night was a little crazy, I remember. It's Jensen. Jensen Ackles. Though, you would have gotten that from my badge anyway."

 

Sure enough, right under that damn red stripe, **JENSEN ACKLES, M.D.** is spelled out in a neat black font. Underneath, **ORTHOPEDICS**.

 

"Jensen," Jared says and smiles, taking his hand and giving it a good shake. "It's nice to meet you. Again!"

 

Though Jared had imagined a dozen awkward first conversations last week, Jensen doesn't look fazed in the least, gazing over Nolan's handwritten menu.

 

"Grabbing lunch?" Jensen adds, nodding to the chalkboard propped up against the Jeep's rear tire.

 

"Yeah." Though it's pretty obvious when the vendor hands Jared his sub along with a few extra napkins. "Thanks, Nolan." Jared leaves his change in the tip jar. "You want to eat with me or are you heading somewhere?"

 

"I'm starving." Jensen pats his stomach. "Do you mind?"

 

"No way, I just—" Jared scrambles. There's no way he can bring Jensen back to the wall where Davis, Louie, Jamie, and Aidan are no doubt watching this unexpected lunchtime entertainment. 

 

Jensen looks over his shoulder. "There are plenty of benches in the quad, if you want?"

 

"Oh, sure." There's a quick sense of relief, denying the guys even more embarrassment on Jared's behalf. "What do you want?"

 

"Cheesesteak with provolone," Jensen answers, pulling a ten dollar bill from his pocket as Nolan throws ingredients on the grill. "Hold the onions, extra mushrooms, please. Have you had the cheesesteak here yet?"

 

"Man, I'd live on those if my health would forgive me."

 

"As a doctor, I don't recommend it." Jensen's laugh isn't something Jared remembers from their night together, but it suits him. Easy on the ears, confident yet soft. "But here I am."

 

The quad is nicely landscaped, pruned trees and bushes creating a decent space for students and staff to relax. A steady stream of people wander through the doors of the main library at the opposite end of the quad, set apart from the main hospitals. They snag an empty bench, Jared wondering if things are going to turn weird.

 

"Have you been working at the site since last fall? I remember when they were breaking ground..."

 

"Oh." No getting around the way Jared's dressed. Mud from the site is caked on the bottom of his boots, spotting up along the hems of his work pants. The bright blue shirt has the S&Y CONSTRUCTION label emblazoned on the front and back, matching the signs posted around the work site. "I wasn't around for most of the clearing stuff, came on in January for the start of new construction."

 

Jensen either doesn't pick up on Jared's embarrassment, or doesn't care. "The new buildings are long overdue. We need a dedicated cancer center to ease the pressure on the main hospital, and the new drug discovery building's going to funnel a lot of grant money into the university. I can't wait—oh, I'm sorry."

 

"What?"

 

"Is that boring?"

 

"No!" Jared doesn't let Jensen's expression turn sheepish. "I like hearing about what they're gonna become, makes the construction seem more important."

 

"Okay." Jensen grins, licking a stray bit of cheese into his mouth. "It's a long project, I'm sure, but it'll be great."

 

Eating takes the focus for the next few minutes; they compare notes on their favorites from Nolan's stand, Jensen complaining about the quality of food in the hospital's cafeterias.

 

"So, how'd you remember my name?"

 

Jensen bunches up his trash, wiping his hands on his napkin. "You, um—you wrote it on my hand with a Sharpie, I think. I saw it when I left."

 

"Really? I thought I made that up in my head!" He's a little reluctant to bring up the next part. "I think I wrote my number on there, too."

 

"That's what those smudges were?" Jensen shakes his head, eyes crinkled adorably at the corners. "Shit, I had no idea, but only your name was readable."

 

Jared swallows. "You would have called?"

 

A little red flush blossoms on Jensen's cheeks. "I went back to that bar a couple more times, hoping you'd be there, and you never told me what you did for a living."

 

"Neither did you." Jared feels flattered beyond expectation.

 

"I saw you a few weeks ago, sitting over on that wall by the site," Jensen admits. "But there were a bunch of guys around, and I had to get back. I kept coming by, though, not just because Nolan makes awesome lunches."

 

"Yeah, we're totally scary."

 

"Dude, I wanted to make sure it was you." Jensen laughs again. "Actually, I thought you saw me last week."

 

Before Jared can muster an apology for his sight-and-flight, his cell phone buzzes in his pocket. He barely grabs it before Louie's voice comes over the Push-To-Talk.

 

"Jay!"

 

"Go ahead," Jared answers.

 

"Need you back over here helping to direct these trucks."

 

"Be there in a minute."

 

"Lunchtime's over, huh?" Jensen looks sympathetic. "Can I at least have your number for real, this time? Or is this just—"

 

"How about you give me your number right now so we avoid any more Sharpie mishaps?"

 

Jared programs Jensen's number in his phone, promising to call if they don't see each other for lunch tomorrow. Jared walks away first, hoping Jensen's sticks around to check out his ass. He has it on good authority that it's one of his best features. He gets back to the site, grinning uncontrollably through Davis's interrogation. Jared just slaps his friend on the back and smirks.

"How long have you been at the hospital?"

 

"It's been a few years now." Jensen takes a long swallow of his beer, only his second, and Jared's showing similar restraint. The sounds around them are muted and low; for a Friday night, the diner's fairly slow. "I did my residency there and stuck around as an orthopedic surgeon."

 

"Glad I know what an orthopedist does." Their server comes and grabs their empty plates, dropping the check off in the middle of the table. "I had a few broken bones growing up, and my orthopedist knew my entire family by name."

 

"Clumsy?"

 

"My parents called me overly active," Jared teases.

 

They split the bill without discussion. Since Monday, they've had lunch at the hospital one other time, and Jared called Jensen after work on Thursday to set up tonight's dinner. Jensen showed up at Jared's favorite little restaurant looking tired—shadows beneath his eyes and weariness written across his body—but he'd quickly apologized for a long and stressful day. Now, after a good meal, Jensen's much more animated and relaxed.

 

"Ready to go?"

 

Jared nods and finishes the last dregs of his beer, wincing at the bitterness. He'd walked, the restaurant being so close to his apartment, but Jensen's car is right outside.

 

"Can I give you a ride?"

 

"D'you mind?" Jared won't pass up close-quarters with Jensen. "It's just a couple blocks."

 

Their small talk lasts for the short trip. Jensen pulls up into one of his building's covered parking spaces and idles, engine a steady vibration all around them. It's the first awkward moment they've had; Jared's indecisive about inviting Jensen upstairs. What he remembers of the sex was amazing, but they way they get along, all the smiles Jensen throws his way, tells Jared that there might be more than hooking up in their future.

 

"Thanks, man," Jensen starts, fingers moving off the steering wheel to fold over his thigh. "I'm glad you dragged my ass out tonight."

 

"I couldn't let you wallow at home after your miserable day." He flashes a grin and adds with humor, "Taking you out means I care."

 

"Do you?" It's less of a comeback and more an honest question to which Jared gives an honest answer. 

 

He barely nods before Jensen's reaching across the seat and pulling his face close. Their lips meet over the center console, Jared's hands fumbling for a place to settle. What starts as a first—well, a sober first—kiss quickly shifts up into heated. And it's Jensen easing into control, fighting into Jared's space and deepening the kiss. His tongue is skilled and insistent, playing along the edge of Jared's lips before moving into his mouth, like he's trying to recall exactly what moves got Jared fired up last time. Lips, tongue, all moving in a variety of ways, never settling on one until Jared moans deep from his belly. Jensen's found his attack—Jared likes a thorough kiss, being comfortable enough with his partner to give his mouth completely and demand the same.

 

When Jensen's hand settles over his crotch, Jared's legs splay on their own, knees knocking the door and the console.

 

"Can I?" Jensen asks breathlessly, eyes reflecting the low lights of the parking structure. His question is clear in the way his fingers curl and grip around Jared's dick. Jared nods again and Jensen makes quick work of his jeans, fingers unbuttoning and unzipping to get beneath. There's no subtle tease, no lengthy build; Jared's not even half-hard when Jensen's lips meet the head of his erection. Blood is driven down, drawn by Jensen's mouth, to fill the muscle. No one's ever sucked Jared off this way—used to heavy foreplay and a lot of grinding to get hard first. Jensen skips the dance and goes straight for the reward.

 

Jared flashes back to how aggressive Jensen had been on their one previous night together, how much Jared liked those sensations. He doesn't need to think, Jensen guides them both, lets his mouth give Jared pleasure. Jared does spare a thought for the fact that they're basically in public, but the structure gives them privacy so long as no one walks right next to Jensen's car.

 

Reciprocation is out of the question in the tight confines of the front seat and the way Jensen's awkwardly bent over. His concern for Jensen's spine and comfort is blown away with the heat of Jensen's mouth. He can only brace himself on the seat and the dash, keeping the thrust of his hips in check. Jared's body gives him enough of a warning that he can nudge Jensen away with a gasp. A warm fist replaces his mouth, enough saliva left over to make Jensen's grip slick and perfect. A minute later, Jared's coming with Jensen's eyes focused on his lips and the sounds falling out.

 

"Shit," Jensen mutters when Jared's caught his breath. His hand's covered in the bursts of come that didn't land on Jared's lap. He glances around for something to wipe his hand off with, giving Jared the chance for turnabout.

 

The steering wheel effectively cockblocks Jared; he's only able to open Jensen's jeans and pull his dick out through the slit in his boxers. Sucking Jared off left Jensen hard and sensitive, making it easy work for Jared to find the right rhythm, the best combination of twist and pull to get him off. Jensen's gorgeous when he's stammering and panting, head thrown back against the seat, little pulses of his hips up into Jared's fist. If this is the kind of thing Jared is capable of forgetting when he's drunk, he vows to stay sober around Jensen.

 

"Jared," Jensen hisses. "I'm gonna—"

 

That's all the warning Jared gets as Jensen comes into his palm, semen dropping down onto the soft fabric of his boxers. It leaves them both with sticky hands and Jared doesn't object this time when Jensen scours for a towel. There's Subway napkins stuffed in the glove compartment; Jensen hands half of them over.

 

"I knew I kept those in here for a reason."

 

There was no tension to begin with but quiet laughter feels good. Jensen's lips look dark and flushed in the low lights; Jared holds himself back from reaching out and running the pads of his fingers over their curves, feeling Jensen's tongue peek out to touch...

 

"Do you want to come up?" He offers. "We wouldn't have to waste our time with a tour or anything."

 

"I shouldn't—" Jensen starts, pausing. "I have an early morning at the hospital, covering clinic hours for a friend."

 

Disappointed, desperate not to show it, Jared nods. "Do you have any free time this weekend? Maybe we could catch a movie?"

 

"Can I call you after clinic tomorrow and let you know?"

 

He can't argue with that. He crowds close for a few final kisses, less intense than the first round, and gets out of the car, watching Jensen's tail lights fade into the darkness.

"Next time, remind me you have better taste in movies."

 

"Oh, _fuck_ —" Jared gasps when he can get a breath. "Yeah, I can do that."

 

Strange time to be talking about the movie they just got back from—Jared's half dressed, pining Jensen against his bedroom door. Jensen's button down is open, jeans already unzipped, and he's seems quite happy to have most of Jared's weight holding him there. Their movie date had been fun, even if Jensen did pick a shitty movie. Coming back to Jared's, he expected them to talk, maybe make popcorn and unleash their competitive sides on Jared's X-Box. But Jensen vetoed that plan, getting right up in Jared's space as soon as they walked in the door. After the first unrelenting kiss, Jared capitulated.

 

"Is this okay?" At least Jensen thinks to ask before they're totally naked and second-guessing. He's not going to argue against hooking up with Jensen twice in one weekend, even if it wasn't what he'd planned. Jensen sees his nod and pushes forward even more insistently so that Jared has to manhandle him back just to stay upright.

 

And Jensen _really_ likes that.

 

"I couldn't get this out of my head, you know?" Jensen moans when Jared lets his lips go in favor of that soft skin under his chin. "Ever since I left—"

 

"You shouldn't have left." Jared sinks his teeth into tendon. Their lower bodies move desperately against one another, counter to the slower cadence of their lips. Jensen's hard and Jared is nearly there from the frantic rubbing. "We could have woken up, gone another round."

 

"Wasted a hell of a lot of time," Jensen mumbles, ornery, yanking Jared's head back up for a deep kiss. Their tongues move together, occasionally slipping back for soft bites and gasps. Their bodies dance in a dirty grind, hands drifting to bare more skin, until the friction's too much.

 

Jensen doesn't balk at the calluses on Jared's hands, the rough and scarred pads of his fingers, his thick wrists. He almost moves into Jared's grip, pushing himself into Jared's hands to get more of their texture and feel. That turns Jared on full-blast, his heart hammering in his chest.

 

It's not long before they get horizontal, back to the familiar, albeit foggy, territory of Jared's bed, finally naked when they hit the sheets. No less aggressive, Jensen pushes Jared back on the mussed comforter. A perfect mirror of the last time they were like this, only without the alcohol making their movements less coordinated. Jared gets to see everything he'd missed that first drunken night; his brain fills in the details like a paint-by-number kit. Jensen's shoulders are broad, an entire span of skin for Jared's hands to press and knead. His hips are ticklish; Jensen squirms above Jared when his fingers brush and tease.

 

"You want it just like last time?" Jared rolls his hips up, recalling the way Jensen rode him, using the canter of Jared's thrusts to get off. "Stay up there and ride me?"

 

"Fuck, yeah," Jensen swears on an indrawn breath. "Sounds so good."

 

That's when Jared flips them, pins Jensen between his thighs. "Too bad." His tongue plays in the dip of Jensen's collarbone. "We're gonna do it my way this time."

 

Jared's way is back-to-basics; he spends plenty of time fingering Jensen wide open, three fingers slip-sliding in and out. He's used to topping but he's never been with someone like Jensen who makes his needs so well known without being pushy. Even pinned, at the mercy's of Jared's hands, Jensen's assertive. The things he says to spur Jared on are more sass than filth, sparking that competitive streak down Jared's spine. He gives as good as Jensen demands, pushing into Jensen slowly and meeting his eyes. Jensen's legs are curled around his hips, arms spread at his sides, gripping the comforter. There's no question it's better than their first time; Jared feels more want than need. Keeping the rhythm slow, Jared gets to see Jensen bite his lip when Jared's particularly accurate, watch his eyelids shutter and close for a moment before he's back, whispering low and sexy into the curve of Jared's ear.

 

They end up on their sides, Jared spooned behind Jensen for his last thrusts. He strips Jensen's dick, fist tight and flesh familiar, and miraculously holds off coming until Jensen's orgasm hits. Following only a moment later, Jared's come is caught in the tight latex condom, and he feels comfortable holding tight to Jensen while his body recovers.

 

"That was—"

 

"So much better than the first time," Jensen finishes, moving gingerly out of Jared's grip to avoid any wet spots.

 

"—Exactly what I was going to say," Jared chuckles, wincing as he pulls off the condom and hops off the bed. Courtesy dictates that it's his bedroom, and his job to clean up, so he grabs a rag and a fresh pair of boxers. His room's messier than usual, clothes strewn from the hallway to the foot of the bed, and in the middle of it all, Jensen's reclining against the cheap, wooden headboard.

 

"I hope I can find my clothes again."

 

Jared considers the trail of clothing, then checks his watch. "You could stay tonight. I mean, it's already late. Here, let me grab you some boxers or something."

 

It all comes out in a rush, but Jensen leans over and kisses his mouth closed.

 

"It's an awesome thought," he says. "But I have to get going. I'm sure you have an early day, too."

 

"Yeah, but Mondays suck anyway. Just stay."

 

"Jared—" He lets Jared kiss him, warm and fairly gentle, but his argument isn't good enough. Jensen pulls back and gets up, pulling his clothes together. "I really need to go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

 

It's not that Jared's unfamiliar with this routine—he's walked out and been walked out on plenty of times. With Jensen, he figured things were already different, but he's willing to give him space. He has a hard time getting to sleep after Jensen leaves, the inevitable spinning of his mind in a dozen different directions.

The entire week is overcast and gray. Thursday, construction is hampered by a steady rain that turns the site into a muddy obstacle course of bright tape and slick metal. Not even Jared's poncho and hat can keep water from sluicing around the fabric, down the back of his neck. The skies are an annoying mirror of Jared's mood.

 

He's seen Jensen twice since Sunday night. Tuesday for lunch, Jensen had been all smiles, flirting with Jared as they ate sandwiches from Nolan on their favorite bench. On Wednesday night, Jared invited Jensen over for dinner after the doctor admitted he wasn't as useful with a pot and spoon as he was with a scalpel. As soon as they'd finished plates full of Jared's lasagna and garlic bread, Jared suggested a movie but Jensen moved straight around the table and sunk to his knees at Jared's feet. It was the first blowjob he'd ever gotten at his kitchen table and afterward he completely forgot about the movie, flipping Jensen around and taking him right there against the counter.

 

Jensen hadn't stayed, begging off again for another early morning. Even if Jensen's uncomfortable falling asleep with someone else close by, Jared wishes he'd stick around, just for a while, so they can get to know each other outside of food, flirting, and sex. The unappealing idea that Jensen doesn't want to pursue anything else because of who he is lurks in the back of Jared's mind, as it has since Jared first discovered Jensen was a doctor.

 

"Jay." Davis ducks into the tent someone set up around the catering truck. Nolan's not out in the rain and Jared settles for a mostly warm hot-dog and chips. "Staying dry?"

 

"I'm trying to, man."

 

"No lunch date with Dr. Sexy?" Davis smirks.

 

"You know, I regret ever telling you that name," Jared laughs. "Jensen has a full day."

 

"He's too busy to dine in this fine establishment?" Davis' tone is light and sarcastic; he waves around at the water dripping down the sides of the tent, and the cooler with a bland selection of sandwiches and drinks.

 

Jared's smile collapses. "I guess so."

 

"Man, I didn't mean anything for it," Davis apologizes when he catches Jared's expression. "How's that going?"

 

"It's going."

 

"Road bumps already?" Davis checks out the lunch selection and goes for a hot-dog, the safest bet. He loads it up with every condiment there so it's less a hot-dog and more a bun with relish and mustard. "I thought you really liked Jensen."

 

"I do," Jared responds, throwing the rest of his lunch away. His stomach's not up for the challenge. "I still do, but I was hoping for a little more than we have."

 

Davis rolls his eyes, makes Jared feel stupid and grateful no one else is around. "Dude, it's only been a couple of weeks. What you've got now is okay, right?"

 

"Sure," Jared concedes. Technically, it's better—the sex is phenomenal and if nothing else, Jensen's a nice guy. "I just, you know. Maybe I want a little more."

 

Nearly choking on his overloaded bun, Davis clears his throat and laughs. "Are you growing up, Jay-man? Want something more mature?" He taunts.

 

"Jerk. I just don't want to end up like you!"

 

"Old, wise, and free to roam where I will?

 

"Yeah!" Jared smacks him on the back. "Definitely old, not really wise, and lonely." 

 

The joke falters slightly on the last word; if Davis hears it, he's smart enough not to comment. Jared lets him finish his relish-covered monstrosity in peace, not excited about going back out in the rain now that his lunch break is over. He zips his coat up and pulls his collar tight.

 

"I'm heading back out," Jared groans. "See you in a few?"

 

"Yeah, man." He hears the pop of Davis' soda tab over the rain. "Hey, Jay. Have you told Dr. Sexy all this?" When Jared shakes his head, Davis nods. "Didn't think so."

_"I thought today was never gonna end."_

 

Over the phone, Jensen sounds tired. His voice shifts to a sleepy-drawl, spaced out with sighs and yawns, when he's had an exhausting day.

 

"It was that bad, huh?"

 

_"Worse actually. I had to see—nevermind."_ Jared hears another long sigh. _"You don't want to hear about it. Dinner and bed sound pretty damn good right now."_

 

"You should come over," Jared offers, putting the last piece of lasagna in the microwave. "I can't promise dinner since I don't have any food left, but I bought Star Trek on Blu-Ray. We can just chill on the couch, talk or whatever."

 

_"How about we save that for tomorrow night when I'm not about to pass out?"_

 

"Yeah, that's fine," Jared lies easily. He's been thinking about what Davis said, but Jensen's already tired. No sense starting in on the awkward relationship talks. Although, something in Jensen's voice speaks to more than simple fatigue. "Are you sure you're okay?"

 

_"Yeah, Jared. I'm fine. I don't really want to talk about it."_

 

Not what Jared wants to hear, but there's nothing he can do. "If you change your mind, my lame ass will be on the couch watching movies all night."

 

_"Thanks for the offer, but I wouldn't be any use to you tonight, unless you wanted to use me as a pillow."_ Jared doesn't get the chance to say, yes, that is exactly what he wants of Jensen right now. He hears Jensen's doorbell over the phone. _"Dammit, my dinner's here. Call me when you get off tomorrow, and we can set something up. Night, Jared."_

 

The line disconnects.

Jared almost doesn't call on Friday afternoon. Last night, the words, "set something up," stayed with him until he fell asleep. Like Jensen was talking about an appointment, not a date. His resolve cracked throughout the day every time Jensen sent him a text message, but he couldn't kick the weird feeling. He gives up at a quarter after five, top already popped off a Heineken from his fridge.

 

By seven, Jensen is sitting on Jared's couch, each of them with a fresh beer. Jared tried convincing Jensen that he was just as comfortable spending time at Jensen's place, but Jensen begged off, bringing take-out to Jared's instead. They eat and chat—Jared skimming the surface of everything he wants to say. Plates cleared, Jared grabs the DVD case and waves it at Jensen.

 

"Ready for the movie?"

 

"Oh," Jensen says, familiar smirk on his face. "I'm definitely ready for something."

 

Well, shit. If Jared knows anything it's that he has a hard time resisting Jensen. But he tries—digs his mental heels in the dirt.

 

"Oh no, I want to see this movie," he tries, jokingly. "Stay back!"

 

They flirt and argue until Jensen starts getting suspicious and Jared clams up.

 

"Jared, what's up?"

 

"Nothing." Deflection is the key—Jared's still not sure that he wants to talk about this.

 

"Come on, man. I know you, something's wrong."

 

Jared snorts. "No, you _don't_. You don't know me."

 

"I know that look you get when you're trying to hold something back." Jared tries to look innocent, and obviously fails. Jensen snaps his fingers and points. "Yeah, that one. Maybe it's only been a couple weeks, but I'm learning."

 

"Maybe you are, but I'm not." Jared picks idly at the couch cushion that separates them. "I barely know anything about you."

 

Jensen's mouth opens, then shuts immediately like his brain sent an 'abort' signal straight to his lips. Seconds stretch out awkwardly before he asks, "What are you talking about?"

 

"It feels like all we do is have sex, or that's all you want to do. Which, don't get me wrong, it's great sex." That gets a small smile out of Jensen, makes it easier for Jared to keep going. "But you never want to stay, you don't ask me to come over to your place, and you never really want to talk about work. Like you're the one holding something back, not me."

 

He finishes in a rush of breath, and Jensen just stares. Jared has never longed so much for a do-over in his life, because emotional outbursts are just not his style.

 

"I didn't think it was that obvious," says Jensen, finally.

 

It's nowhere close to the response Jared's expecting. "What?"

 

"You're right, I think," he clarifies. "Except about the 'wanting to' part. I really do want to stay over sometime, or talk about my day."

 

"Then why don't you?"

 

Jensen grins. "I can't keep my hands off you. Do you have any idea how good looking you are?"

 

There's a moment where Jared thinks he's serious—it lasts for a few flabbergasted heartbeats, then Jensen laughs. 

 

"I'm kidding. Sort of." He smirks. "Really? The honest reason?"

 

Jared nods.

 

"I'm just happy you're still hanging out with me."

 

"Why wouldn't I want to?"

 

"Dude." Jensen chuckles at himself. "I'm not really boyfriend material."

 

Considering Jared's had many thoughts to the contrary, he shakes his head. "Right. Now what are _you_ talking about?"

 

"Are you kidding? You already know my work schedule sucks—if I'm not there, I'm exhausted. I don't bring you to my place because, well, it's pretty empty—haven't had the chance to fill it, and it's so damn awful," he sighs. "I held back 'cause I figured all that would bore you, and I wanted to keep hanging out with you."

 

"Don't worry about that," Jared assures him. "I just want you to be yourself."

 

"I have been. Parts of myself, anyway." Jensen moves slightly closer. "Because I really do like the sex."

 

A laugh bubbles up out of nowhere and escapes Jared. Like the air in the room is suddenly lighter, the stiff line of Jensen's shoulders eases and he shifts back into the cushions. He looks so inviting, and despite Jared's plans to make sure they watch the movie, he leans over and kisses him. It doesn't feel different, or better. Just right. And they keep going with no other intentions in mind than learning how the other likes to be kissed. They end up curled at one end of the couch, Jensen's feet tucked up under Jared's thighs to keep them warm, wiggling them every so often so they don't fall asleep.

 

"What did you think?"

 

"Hmmm?" Jared's only half paying attention to the movie. The rest is for Jensen.

 

"You must have figured something was wrong when you thought I was holding back," Jensen says. "What was it?"

 

There's no conceivable way Jensen's going to let him get away without answering—not after his mini-Inquisition fifteen minutes ago.

 

"I thought you wanted to keep it casual—just sex."

 

Jensen's lips are so close to Jared's neck. He feels the tiny exhalations with every word.

 

"And why did you think I would I want that?"

 

"You know..." Jensen waits for it. "You're a doctor."

 

"Gee, thanks for noticing."

 

"Not kidding," Jared grumbles. "I get dirty for a living, play around outside and basically do shit that normal people don't want to do. I figured you were fine as long as we were just hooking up, not getting serious."

 

"I forgive you."

 

Jared cranes his neck down so he can see Jensen's face. He's not smiling, but his eyes can't fool Jared. "Seriously?"

 

"Hey, you forgave me being a workaholic jerk, I'm fine that you could think something so fucking ridiculous."

 

Jared tries to be appalled, or offended, but he can't. Jensen just wraps himself more tightly around him and tells him to shut up and watch the movie. The relief Jared feels comes with one condition, something he remembers from the day before.

 

"Jensen."

 

"Geez, I thought you actually wanted to watch!"

 

"There was something wrong yesterday when I called you."

 

Jensen looks at their hands, curled together between them. 

 

"New found sharing aside? I really don't think you want to hear this."

 

"Tell me," Jared offers, supporting with his body and his words. "Whatever you need to tell me—"

 

Silence reigns for a few minutes until Jensen's face just falls. He shifts away, puts distance between them on the couch.

 

"There was this kid who came into the E.R. yesterday," he begins, voice unsteady, stopping almost to gather himself. "I'd never seen him before, but it wasn't his Dad bringing him in, it was his teacher. Three of the kid's fingers were broken on his left hand—fuck, Jared, it was awful and swollen, bruising clear up to the wrist. The kid didn't say a word, but I knew—I knew what had happened as soon as I saw him. One of the E.R. nurses flagged me down and told me the kid had been in a couple times before and I just—"

 

This time, when Jensen stops, he can't continue, and Jared brings him close again. Jensen fits just under his shoulder, like Jared can provide a small, safe space for him. He wishes it were that simple. A few minutes pass and Jensen musters the energy to start talking again, and Jared doesn't let go.

Jensen is adorable when he sleeps.

 

Jared stays awake just to watch him for a while. The lamp post in the courtyard gives him enough light to make out Jensen's features, completely relaxed and a little silly. He can't believe that Jensen had been able to put on this bright, flirty front ever since they met for the second time. Just imagining it seems exhausting, and Jensen did it for Jared. For a relationship with Jared. No one's done anything like that for him—of course, Jensen does, says, and is so many things that Jared's never had before.

 

This is the third time Jensen's slept over—Jared never falls asleep right away, but he doesn't mind. He likes staying awake in the faint light, surrounded by the dull noises of night, just to look. He can't move much. Jensen completely wore him out earlier, because despite Jared's cravings for a relationship over random hook ups, Jensen is spectacularly attractive and it's hard for Jared to keep his hands off him. 

 

Forcing a little bit of cuddling on Jensen afterward, before they separate to fall asleep, is just a bonus.

"Shit, guys! Here she comes."

 

Jamie tries to duck and hide himself behind Davis' larger body. Sauntering down the sidewalk is the same redhead that caught Jamie's eye weeks ago, and he still hasn't found the spunk to do more than stare at her.

 

"Say something," encourages Aidan, elbowing Jamie. "If you never try..."

 

"Dude, shut up! She'll hear you," Jamie hisses. 

 

Davis groans, catches Aidan's eye, and the two of them shove Jamie right off the stone wall and into the redhead's path. He comes up like a drowning man gasping for air, meeting the nursing student's eyes before he turns and starts swearing at the guys, and at Jared and Louie for not helping him. Jared just laughs for a solid five minutes.

 

The weather's turned mild and seasonable, days getting longer as Spring starts to roll around. Days on site are busier than ever, but Jared rarely misses lunch. When he sees what he's been watching for across the street, Jared bring his fingers up to his mouth and wolf-whistles hard. The guys all cringe and start complaining.

 

"What the fuck was that?" Louie pulls his hands away from his ears. "Trying to make me deaf, kid?"

 

Jared smiles. Across the street, Jensen stops at Nolan's Jeep and waves over.

 

"Sorry, guys," Jared says, slapping Louie's meaty thigh. "I've got a date."

 

They all tease Jared when he hops down from the wall, their taunts following him across the street to where his boyfriend's waiting.

 

 

FIN.

 

 

Thank you to electricalgwen for bidding on me! I hope this is somewhere in the vicinity of what you wanted :) I based it at a hospital because I work at one, and there's a construction site right across from my building.


End file.
